Revenge
by Incapability
Summary: Complete! What if Lady Van Tassel had played false at the Tree of the Dead? What if it had all been planned?
1. Default Chapter

**Revenge **

There they were, running for their lifes. Or at least trying to do so. For there was no escape: She would get them!

She urged her scared, panting horse out from behind the trees, unable to get the triumphant smile out of her face. The shock on their faces as they saw her approach them was priceless.

"Still alive?", she called out to them, her voice pearling with laughter. That seemed to pull the young man out of his stupor; he pushed the brat away, screaming at her to run while assuming a would-be fighting posture that was about the most ridiculous thing she had ever seen in her life.  
Her eyes followed the running brat while her hand reached down. For a moment, she felt only the reassuring weight of the skull inside the bag before her hand wandered further down to where she had her pistol.  
Raising it, she quickly aimed at the running girl, who froze immediately as she heard her speak.  
"Yes, do run! And jump! And SKIP!" The piercing cries that reached her ears as she changed her aim in the very last moment to shoot the young man instead of the brat was music in her ears. As was the sound of galloping hooves that quickly approached the clearing.

When the Hessian finally came into view, she moved over to where the brat was standing and grabbed her hair from behind. It felt as though she were holding a fish that was struggling against her grip to reach the safety of the water. But this annoying little thing would never be safe again …

"Take her, she's yours!", she yelled towards the dark figure before a sound escaped her throat that even she recognised as mad, insane laughter. She felt almost drunk, the feeling of vengeance was intoxicating.

Then, everything happened very fast. Before she knew it, the foolish young man, who for some reason was not dead, leaped towards her in a desperate attempt to save his beloved little brat. In his drive, he managed to drag her off the horse. For some moments they both simply lay on the ground, panting, trying to catch their breaths. He then noticed the skull bag, lying only a few feet away from them.

He began to crawl towards it at once. An evil glint appeared in her eyes. She was by no means willing to end this little game so soon! Starting to crawl towards the bag as well, she began to pull at the young man's clothes and hair. He repaid her in the exact same way. It was hard to keep herself from laughing: this ridiculous mud-race remembered her strongly of a fight between two little girls over their very favourite doll. 'But _this_ is definitely _my_ doll, dear Constable!' ,she thought as she tried to bite into his hand.

Then, everything went black.

_TBC …_


	2. Chapter 2

She felt as though her head was going to burst. For several moments, she did not know where she was or what had happened. The smack she had received on the back of her head must have been really forceful, as she felt as though the ground beneath her was moving. She turned her head to the left. All she could see was long, black hair. Long, black hair, hanging on the neck of a big, black horse. She blinked a few time to clear her vision and slowly turned her head to the right. Her view was blocked by a black-clad chest. Trying to find a way out of all the black surrounding her, she let her gaze wander up and started when her eyes met a white face and electric blue eyes beneath – once again – coal black hair. They had given the Horseman his skull back.

Out of the corner of her eyes she could see that they were watching her with frozen, horrified expressions. She suppressed a smirk. They obviously believed themselves victorious. How little they knew! Her triumphant thoughts were suddenly interrupted when the Hessian leaned down to her and pressed his cold lips on hers. It was only seconds before she could feel the warmth of blood running out of her mouth and down her chin: he had bitten her with his sharp, pointed teeth! She gave a choked scream and struggled to get out of his firm grip.

He finally released her and licked her blood from his lips with relish. With a wild, warrior-like roar, he rode his horse towards the Tree of the Dead. She quickly grabbed the fabric of his cloak to prevent herself from falling. Then, the mighty black horse set off to pass through the gates to Hell. The last thing she heard was the girl's piercing scream and the sound of the Constable fainting and hitting the ground with a loud "thud". She smirked.

Her plan was working.

A/N: Sorry, I forgot. I own none of the character except for Lady Van Tass- … sorry. I own _none_ of the characters. Not even the head-chopping lady. Pity.  
Well, if I can't have _her, _I also refuse to be responsible for any mistakes in spelling you might find. Or grammar. Or vocabulary. That's about it. R&R!


	3. Chapter 3

Katrina stood in front of the Tree of the Dead, a look of silent horror on her face. Even though her breath was slowly calming down, she could still hear her heart pounding in her ears. She cast one quick, frightened glance at the bottom of the Tree where the ghostly white hand was lying, pointing a finger at her as though trying to coax her to come closer, to coax her to follow to where the Horseman had taken the demon her stepmother had turned out to be. The thought sent shivers down her spine.

Wanting to distract herself from the eerie sight, she quickly turned towards Ichabod, who was still lying on the ground, unconscious but beginning to stir. She rushed to his side and gently took his hand.  
"Ichabod?", she whispered, starting to shake him carefully. "Ichabod. Please wake up. It's over. She's gone. Did you hear me? She's gone, we're free!"

Ichabod finally opened his eyes, only to close them right away. He groaned and began to sit up slowly, all the while holding his head as if wanting to make sure it was still where it belonged. Katrina touched his shoulder, an expression of deep worry on her face. "Ichabod? Are you all right?"  
He tried a smile that almost made her heart melt. "I'm fine, Katrina. Don't worry. What about you and Young Masbeth?"  
Her face fell. Young Masbeth! In her worry about Ichabod, she had completely forgotten about the boy. Trembling, she got up and looked around. He was nowhere to be seen. Katrina closed her eyes briefly, for some moments feeling as if clouds of panic were rising up in front of her.

"Young Masbeth!", she called, trying not to let her fear overwhelm her. "Young Masbeth, where are you?"

Behind her, the sound of breaking twigs came out o the direction of the Tree of the Dead. She started and whirled around to see what had caused the noise. "Young Masbeth!", she sighed. "You almost scared me to death!"  
The boy came out from behind the Tree he seemed to have examined more closely. "I'm sorry, Miss. But I just couldn't believe that they were really gone."  
Icahbod had finally gotten to his feet as well. "And are they gone, Young Masbeth?" The boy nodded. "Not a trace left of them, Sir."

Katrina smiled, at last allowing herself to feel relieved. "Come on, let's leave this place for good!", she heard Ichabod say.

All three of them began to walk away, all three of them bathing in the relief of their victory. When they had almost reached the edge of the clearing, another sound made them stop dead in their tracks.  
Behind them, they heard wood break. And after some moments, a cold, female voice reached their ears.

"Surprise!"


	4. Chapter 4

Everything around her was dark. Just as dark as she had expected it to be. But after all, what could one expect from the interior of a tree? Suddenly, she felt something warm breathe against her cheek. Sighing, she rolled her eyes.  
"Tell your horse to get its mouth out of my face, will you?", she snapped. She felt the warm, soft nostrils draw back from her face, only to be replaced by cold, pointed teeth. On her neck.  
"You are testing my patience", she hissed through gritted teeth; her mouth was still aching all over from his previous 'signs of affection'. She guessed that he had let himself be carried away by the excitement of the moment, by the triumph to have his head back. She did not blame him for that. She could only imagine what it must mean to him, getting his skull back where it belonged.

In spite of the piercing pain in her mouth, she felt herself smile at the thought. The skull … this object, so full of magic, so full of power if one knew how to use it, and still the most useless thing in the world. Yet, it had proven to be a most useful tool …

She raised her right hand and fulfilled a succession of graceful, complicated gestures. In front of her, a small, colourful cloud seemed to emerge from the tips of her fingers, rising up to the level of her face, illuminating it in a way that would remind most mortals of a mask, a mask showing the features of a demon, a devil. Inside this cloud, colours were swirling around like mist, moving, forming pictures of nothing and everything before finally showing the clearing outside their hiding place.

There was the young man, still lying on the ground, and the brat, fussing over him. She could see the boy come towards the tree, unnoticed by the other two, and walk around it slowly. He seemed to be looking for something. When he did not find it, he went back to the other two fools, who were now both awake and on their feet. She could not hear what the boy was saying, but the look of relief on everybody's face told her everything she needed to know.

They believed themselves safe. They thought that by giving the Hessian his skull back, she would lose control over him. Those fools! Did they really think that if it were like that she would carry it around? Oh yes, the skull was powerful, but it was not essential to govern the Horseman. It had been a mere instrument to canalise the energy with which she had called him. Her true power over him lay in her knowledge of witchcraft and the ancient powers of nature.  
But useless though it might be, it had turned out to be an excellent decay. Those young fools had jumped at conclusions, just as she had known they would. Of course, she could have had them beheaded long ago, but revenge was the sweeter, the slyer it was.

She watched them walk towards the edge of the clearing, seemingly walking into a new life. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

Still smiling, she instructed the Hessian to open the trunk of the tree so she could get out. Watching the three figures in her little cloud, she smiled even broader as she saw them stop dead in their tracks at the sound of the wood breaking.

With a snap of her fingers, she let the cloud disappear and gracefully emerged from the tree that was considered the gate to hell itself.

For some moments, she simply enjoyed the sight of the three frozen, horrified people before she finally made her entrance.

"Surprise!", her voice echoed through the wavering clouds of mist beginning to fill the clearing.

And surprised they were.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I asked Lady Van Tassel what I would have to do to own the characters. After she expressed her amusement (Ok, I admit it: she laughed at me for about half an hour) she gave me a look that clearly said 'If you weren't that daft I'd have the Horseman behead you for even thinking of it.' I took this as 'You never did, and you never will own us!' And we all now better than to disobey her …

She smiled in satisfaction as she watched the Horseman go after them, chasing them after they had finally got out of their stupor to run for their lives – for the second time that evening, and this time it would be fruitless. Her smile deepened when she saw the Hessian catch up with them, capturing them with a rope that had been tied to his saddle, and then leading them back to her like sacrificial lambs on their way to the altar.

She breathed deeply, sensing their fear, their terror, going into raptures over it. When they had finally reached her, she could not help but to laugh out loud. Their puzzled faces made her laugh even harder. "Look at you!", she gasped between a fit of laughter. "You are looking at me as though I was going to behead you right away. But don't worry."  
Here, she eventually managed to calm down, only her characteristic, sardonic smirk remaining on her face. "Don't worry. You won't die. At least not before I revealed my evil, sinister plan to you. We can't have you die without a decent villain-reveals-his-plan-to-hero-scene, can we?" She shook her head. "Of course not." She began pacing up and own in front of the tied up group that followed her every move with their eyes, like a trapped animal waiting for the hunter to cut its throat. To her, the fear that emerged from them felt as maddening as wine. She decided to play around with them a little longer than she had intended, wanting to indulge further into the feeling of power their terror gave her. After all, she had all the time in the world … no one knew where they were …

"You know, my dear young friends, I think this whole plan-revealing thing has always been looked upon from a pretty one-sided point of view. They always say the villain only reveals his plan to his victim because he likes to hear himself talk, and because it gives him the opportunity to marvel at his own brilliance, in one word: out of pure vanity."

She turned around to face them. The young Constable seemed to grow impatient. She approached him and placed one long, gloved finger onto his jawbone, tracing it lightly, enjoying the hatred that shot through the brat's eyes. She smiled smugly.  
"Is there something you would like to tell me, dear?" she addressed the girl with mock concern.  
"If your rambling has a point, get to it, and soon!", the Constable spat. She chuckled.

"Such impatience! But if you insist … Well, have you ever considered how the victim must feel in such a situation?" She ignored the pointed glares. "Imagine yourselves, being beheaded without even knowing how it came that far." She silently laughed at their expressions, a mixture of hatred and pure, unspoilt terror. This was surely the time of her life!

"That would not be very nice, would it? Quite dissatisfying, I daresay.

"Now that we got that clear, listen closely and learn why it is that you are where you are now… Listen and learn how it came that you are now going to die …"


	6. Chapter 6

"You know", she addressed the girl, "what I told you in the windmill was all perfectly true. I raised the Hessian from the grave to avenge me and my family. I governed him, and I still do, but not through his skull. Do you think I would have brought it with me if that were the case?"  
They obviously did. "Well, if it's not the skull, what the heck is it then?"  
She sighed, rolling her eyes. How stupid could people be?

"Typical. Whenever death is somehow involved, people keep looking for macabre objects that they consider the key to everything. Vampires are banned by a crucifix, werewolves are killed by silver orbs, and of course Headless Horsemen are controlled by their heads.  
Did you ever try to control a dead person by taking its skull and giving it orders?" Their appalled faces were answer enough to her. "Of course not. Why would you? Nothing would happen, because you never learned how to control the dead. You never learned how to control powers that go beyond your imagination, small as it may be."  
She paused to give them time to think about what she had said before they finally admitted that they did not understand it.

"So why did you take the head in the first place?" After a considerably long time, the brat had finally spoken up. With the most predictable and the stupidest question ever. She resisted the urge to sigh and massage her temples with her long, white fingers. "Did the Headless Horseman scare you?" They nodded in unison. "Would you have been scared by a non-Headless Horseman?" Again they nodded. "And what would have scared you more?"  
Timidly, the boy piped up. "Erm, a Headless Horseman?"  
"Exactly. I simply took the head because it made the Hessian look more scary, and because I liked the symbolism of a Headless beheading my enemies. The Horseman I control through incantations and spells."

"Ma'am, may I ask something?", the boy whispered. She nodded. "Fire away, dear."  
"Why did you not kill Katrina when you had her captured in the windmill? Why did you wait and risk us freeing her?"

She smiled. "Finally someone who shows signs of intelligence. I did not kill her right away, y dear, because I knew she would lure you two to me. I wanted to see you all die in one stroke." She waved her hand nonchalantly. "Oh, and I wanted to see her suffer, but I guess that was clear from the beginning. Besides, I had this whole tree-hiding-thing planned very carefully. I knew you would be too shocked to run or fight after seeing me 'return from the dead', so I was not really taking any chances.

"And now, as my story is at an end, so are your lives.  
Farewell, dear friends! I will not miss you!"

When the Hessian raised his sword to complete her revenge, fear wrenched every line of their faces. It was wonderful. At the very last moment, the Constable shouted. "Wait!" The Hessian stopped in mid-movement. She looked at him with the expression of someone whose patience was quickly reaching its end. "_What?_"  
"Won't you at least give us a small chance to free ourselves?"

She pretended to think very hard. "I think … not."

The Constable did not seem satisfied with her response. "But -" He never came any further. The Hessian's sword flew through the air and cut his head off in mid-sentence. It rolled over the ground, coming to a halt directly in front of her feet. The other two's cries of horror were quickly silenced by death as well.

For a long time, she simply stood, looking at the three headless bodies in front of her, before slowly, very slowly, a smile crept onto her face.

She was free.

A/N: So that was that. Sorry to all those who had hoped that Ichabod would somehow weasel them out of the situation. Hope it wasn't too stupid. R&R please!


End file.
